


as the river belongs to the sea

by clearlykero



Category: Free!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 23:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16005953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clearlykero/pseuds/clearlykero
Summary: Or, five times Kisumi fixes Asahi's clothes, and one time Asahi fixes Kisumi's instead.





	as the river belongs to the sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yukirei](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukirei/gifts).



> written on commission!

1.

When Asahi shows up, his sleeves are rolled up as usual. It looks good on him, but today they're meeting a real estate agent that Kisumi doesn't know, so he wants to give as good an impression as possible. He fusses with the hems, smoothing them down until Asahi catches his hands and gives him a Look.

"The agent's not going to judge me because of my sleeves," he says, but he leaves them rolled down. Behind the counter, his sister clicks her tongue.

"You never know with some agents, they can be so awful. Isn't that right, Tsukushi?" Tsukushi nods as if he knows what they're talking about. He's grown so big already, enough that he can sit on a regular chair now.

Asahi groans, laying his head down on his arms. "That's why I said we should just go to your agency, but noooo. You wanted the  _ experience. _ "

Uncle Katsumi also doesn't know Kisumi is looking to move in with Asahi, and he'd like to keep it that way, at least for a little while. He isn't afraid of anyone knowing he and Asahi are a little more than just friends, but in Asahi's case… Kisumi doesn't want a scandal. He pokes Asahi's side, pouting. "Don't you think it's nice to look at apartments together? Ones you don't know what to expect from?"

"Yeah, but— hey, maybe we'll get a haunted apartment," says Asahi, suddenly excited. "I heard you introduced one to Haru when he first moved here."

"That was an exception, and  _ I  _ don't want to live in a haunted apartment." Kisumi looks at his watch, reaching down to pick up his bag. Asahi gets there first, and slings it across his own shoulders, grinning. Kisumi pouts at him, then smiles back and amends his statement. "Maybe if it's cheap enough."

Asahi whoops and punches the air, and Kisumi trades an amused look with Akane.

"In exchange," Kisumi continues, "you need to come along for curtain shopping."

Asahi's face falls comically. "Not— not furniture shopping?"

"Curtain shopping." Kisumi isn't planning to budge on that point, but when Asahi puts his arm around Kisumi's waist and playfully nudges him with his hip, he finds himself caving immediately.

"You are such a cheat," he huffs, shrugging Asahi off and getting into the car.

Asahi swings himself into the passenger seat, grinning. "Not my fault it works every time."

"I'll take Hiyori-kun instead," says Kisumi, innocently, and he's rewarded with a squawk and an instant promise to accompany Kisumi on any kind of shopping at all as long as he doesn't go alone with 'that glasses bastard'.  _ Yes, _ Kisumi thinks smugly,  _ it  _ does  _ work every time. _

 

 

2.

The support strap makes an awkward bump in the line of Asahi's shirt sleeve, sitting where it does just above his bicep. Kisumi eyes it critically as he does Asahi's buttons up, leaving the top one open. He takes a moment to appreciate the glimpse of collarbone instead of the ugly strap. Asahi has gotten a little more tanned lately, and Kisumi tends to want to show him off.

"I could just put it on during practice," Asahi grumbles.

"You'll forget if it isn't already on your arm," says Kisumi, as sternly as he can when his hand is on Asahi's neck and he can feel Asahi's heartbeat under his fingers. "Just remember to tighten it later."

"Yes,  _ mom, _ " Asahi drags out, turning to look at himself in the mirror. He has a presentation in class today, an important one for his final grade, so he's in a rare smart-looking shirt and blazer. Kisumi is sad he won't be there to see it in action. Haru said he would sneak in and get photos if he could, and Kisumi wouldn't ordinarily depend on Haru for this sort of thing, but Isana had also promised. And Isana is  _ very  _ sneaky.

"Don't push yourself so much." Kisumi's voice is softer now, a tiny edge of worry colouring it. Asahi reaches back without looking, and Kisumi reaches his own hand out to twine their fingers together. "You're always at practice, these days."

"Yamazaki already gave me the speech," Asahi says, scoffing, but his eyes meet Kisumi's in the mirror and they're serious.

"Sousuke knows what he's talking about," Kisumi says, and doesn't add how scared he was when Asahi mentioned his elbow pain like it was nothing. "He nags, but it's for your own good." His fingers tighten. Asahi squeezes his hand reassuringly, turning to face him.

"I'll be fine, Kisumi."

"You always say that," Kisumi says, ducking his head so Asahi won't see the worry on his face. 

"And I'm a genius, so I'm always right, remember?" Asahi kisses his hair as if he doesn't notice the wax in it. Kisumi's chest aches with how much he feels.

"Right," he says, pushing his face into the crook of Asahi's neck. Asahi wraps his arms around him, strokes his back until he's almost late for his presentation, but Kisumi can't bring himself to feel sorry at all.

 

 

3.

"Please stop," is the first thing Hiyori says upon seeing them. 

"We literally just got here," Asahi says, outraged. But Kisumi is already giggling, because he knows exactly what Hiyori's pained expression (and Ikuya's bemused one, but Hiyori is funnier) is about. Asahi, because he's Asahi, probably wouldn't think of their clothes first.

Today, however, they are both wearing sweaters with the same wide stripe down the sleeves in opposite colours, dark blue jeans and white sneakers. Asahi has a baseball cap on because Kisumi likes the way he looks in them, but otherwise… they match. It's a  _ pair look,  _ which is exactly the kind of thing Hiyori would pretend to loathe with all his being while also wishing Ikuya would agree to do with him. Kisumi loves it.

He tucks the label of Asahi's sweater neatly under his collar, smoothes his hand down Asahi's back and gives Hiyori the sweetest smile he can manage. "Is something the matter?"

"You know exactly what the matter is," Hiyori mutters, but he rolls his eyes at Asahi and waves them all into the cafe anyway. They're here to have the best pancakes in Tokyo, according to Hiyori, which is a shining review considering how many cafes he visits in a week.

They get the pancakes, and they really are the best pancakes Kisumi has ever had. After they've eaten their fill and he's regretting wearing these pair of jeans even if they make his legs look great, Ikuya tilts his head at Asahi.

"How did your parents take it?"

"What," says Kisumi, while Asahi buries his face in his hands. Ikuya glances between the both of them, clearly confused.

"Didn't you know? I thought you'd have gone with him, since you two are, you know—" Ikuya makes an incomprehensible gesture with his hands.

"I was gonna tell him today, damnit, why'd you go and open your mouth?"

"Asahi, you're an idiot," says Ikuya.

"An idiot," Hiyori agrees, looking gleeful. 

Kisumi looks at Asahi. Asahi peers back at him through his fingers. "Sorry?" he offers.

"Your parents like me," Kisumi says, and even though he tries to make it a statement, his voice wobbles and goes a little high at the end. 

"They love you," Asahi answers. He presses his knee against Kisumi's and grins sheepishly. "It was good news, so. I was gonna tell you."

"Okay," says Kisumi, and smiles back, while Hiyori makes a disgusted face and Ikuya hides his own smile in his coffee.

 

 

4.

Now that they've graduated and their schedules have gotten more and more distant, they don't see each other as much any more. On the job, Kisumi will glance at his phone to see a notification from Asahi with a selfie of him and some other teammate, sometimes Haru or Ikuya or even Makoto, and he will feel lonelier than he ever thought was possible. But he will slip his phone back into his pocket and paste on a smile anyway, because that's what a real estate agent is meant to do.

He works too many hours a week, Asahi says, but there's no helping it. The agency isn't doing too well lately. Uncle Katsumi doesn't laugh as often as he used to. Kisumi stays late into the night going over papers for his clients the next day, and when he gets home Asahi is usually already in bed because he has morning practice the next day.

Sometimes, on Asahi's rest day, Kisumi wheedles Uncle Katsumi into letting him off early, and he surprises Asahi with the  _ nikuman _ from Gojuuban that he's fallen in love with recently. 

Today is one of those days. Kisumi lets himself into the apartment, not hearing Asahi's usual 'welcome home', and steps into the living room to find him splayed on the sofa, asleep. He looks like he came straight from the gym, tank top and cargo shorts and all.

"You'll catch a cold sleeping like that," Kisumi scolds, but quietly. He puts the box of  _ nikuman  _ on the counter and goes to tug off Asahi's tank top so he can throw it in the laundry.

Asahi, though, is already half-awake. "Kis'mi," he says, patting his hand on Kisumi's face. 

"I'm home," says Kisumi, pretending to sulk, "so where's my welcome?" 

Asahi lets Kisumi strip his shirt off, blinking sleepily. "Time's it?"

"Six."

"Early today," Asahi mumbles, wriggling so Kisumi can get his shorts too. "Welcome home." It's been years since they started living together, but Kisumi still isn't tired of hearing it. 

He tosses Asahi's gym clothes in the direction of the laundry hamper, then pokes his forehead cheerfully. "I brought your beloved Gojuuban back, so you better wake up before I eat it for you."

"No," Asahi groans, "don't eat my  _ nikuman _ …"

Kisumi leaves Asahi to be dramatic into the sofa cushions and changes out of his own work clothes into one of Asahi's old Taka U sweaters. When he goes back to the living room, Asahi is sitting up, still looking like he's going to fall asleep at any moment.

"Good morning," Kisumi says anyway, fondly brushing his hand through Asahi's bedhead. Asahi catches Kisumi's wrist, looking at it like he doesn't know what he's holding.

"Morning," he replies, thumb holding steady over Kisumi's pulse point.

"You're supposed to kiss me and catch my uncle, not the other way round," Kisumi informs him.

"Mmm," Asahi hums, and drags him down so that they're both sprawled on the sofa. "Caught you anyway." He closes his eyes then, waiting. Kisumi, laughing, obliges him with a kiss.

Asahi calms him in a way that even their apartment, strewn with memorabilia and traces of their shared life, can't give to him. He sighs, stroking his hands across Asahi's shoulders.

"Your  _ nikuman _ is going to get cold," Kisumi says, shifting so that their foreheads touch.

"'S'alright," Asahi says. He nips at Kisumi's bottom lip until he opens his mouth for a proper kiss. Asahi tastes faintly like the energy drink he takes to the gym that Kisumi hates; he presses closer anyway.

"Missed you." It's almost lost in the sound of their breathing and the wet slide of their tongues, but Kisumi hears it. He squeezes his eyes tight against a sudden swell of emotion, and thinks,  _ me too. _

 

 

5.

The tie is not getting any more tied despite Kisumi's directions (that are interspersed with laughter, because Asahi's clothing struggles are never not entertaining). Asahi shoots him a baleful glare and pulls it off entirely, chucking it at Kisumi's head.

"Stop laughing and  _ help me,  _ you ass." 

"Just go without a tie," Kisumi suggests, while he unpicks the ridiculous knot that Asahi has somehow managed to make. "I told you this one doesn't match your suit, anyway."

They both stare at the tie, which is white with bright orange stripes. Asahi, in comparison, has on a cream double-breasted suit with a warm peach shirt. Not only do the suit and tie look awful together, but it clashes terribly with his hair, too. It's never  _ not  _ clashed with his hair, but Asahi loves it regardless.

"I have to wear a tie, you know how the board is. Even Haru's wearing a tie.  _ Haru, _ " he emphasizes, like this is something Kisumi should be shocked by. Kisumi knows Haru has developed an appreciation for formal wear despite his youthful hatred of covering up, so he ignores this complaint to save Asahi's minor delusion. 

"If you wear the one I pick I'll tie it for you," Kisumi bargains. 

Asahi eyes him narrowly. Kisumi's wardrobe is full of things Asahi would never wear, like pinstriped shirts and waistcoats. He likes to say Kisumi is the definition of extra, but since Asahi is the one with a cream-coloured double-breasted suit, Kisumi doesn't think he has a leg to stand on.

A tie, though, is simple. He already knows which one he'll pick. He's been planning this since the date for the Japan national team press conference was set.

When Kisumi has looped the tie into a perfect half-Windsor and pulled it snug against the collar, he turns Asahi around and they both look in the mirror. Asahi has done his hair nicely for today, pushed back off his forehead so that he looks a little more professional. The suit sits on his shoulders handsomely, and the trousers break right at the top of his dress shoes. The tie, a chestnut brown with yet deeper stripes, perfects it. 

"Just missing this," Kisumi says, tucking the matching pocket square into Asahi's jacket. "Now you're perfect."

Asahi grins at his reflection in the mirror, tilting his head to bump into Kisumi's. "I know I am."

They look good together, Kisumi thinks. He himself is in formal wear because he'll be at the front of the audience for the press conference, a dark suit and cream shirt he picked especially to counterpoint Asahi's suit.

"Looks like a wedding photo," Asahi says, too casually. Kisumi goes still.

"You're right," he agrees.

They say no more on the subject, until around the end of the press conference, when Asahi looks Kisumi dead in the eye and Kisumi knows he's going to do Something.

"I'd like to thank all my fans for the gifts this Valentine's Day," says Asahi, brightly, "but I'm already planning to get married to the man of my dreams." And the crowd goes absolutely insane. 

Their PR person is giving Asahi the most hilarious look of betrayal, and Kinjou has collapsed in hysterics on the table. The rest of the team are keeping a noble silence in the face of all the questions, except Rin, who is predictably trying not to cry because he's still an over-emotional romantic. Kisumi, fingering the ring box in his pocket, just grins helplessly and accepts that he's been outplayed.

 

 

+1.

"Has everyone finished having their cry?" Hiyori asks in his fake-polite voice, to which Makoto sniffles loudly. The hotel suite is packed with basically the entire national team and assorted friends-of; Kisumi is in another room with Rin, Sousuke and his basketball friends. Asahi bets Rin is doing the exact same thing as Makoto, but even uglier and messier.

"I saw you having a moment in the toilet," Haru says to Hiyori. "With tissues." Hiyori pretends he didn't hear this comment, but Ikuya is already laughing. 

The sound of his friends' laughter in his ears, Asahi looks in the mirror again, somehow still unable to calm down. He puts a hand on his tie. It's the same one he'd been wearing on the day he revealed their relationship to the world, even though the suit is different.

"Nervous?" A hand pats the top of his head lightly, making sure not to disturb the style.

"Nao-senpai," Asahi says, . "I— okay, I'm a bit. Nervous."

"I'm sure Shigino-kun is just as nervous," Nao says, quirking an eyebrow at him. Asahi supposes this is true, and feels a little bit better. "You'll be fine during the ceremony, anyway."

Just then, there is a commotion from the corridor.

"I told you I can tie it for you," someone says from outside, then the suite door bursts open and Kisumi dashes in.

"Asahiiii," he whines, attaching himself to Asahi's arm like a limpet. Nao sidles away discreetly. A blond man appears in the doorway then, hand on his hip and shaking his head. 

"Can't believe you forgot how to tie a tie," says the man teasingly.

"Go away, Ryouta," Kisumi says, his voice muffled by the sleeve of Asahi's jacket. Ryouta shrugs, nodding at everyone in the room, and shuts the door when he leaves.

"Did you really forget how to tie a tie?"

"Maybe," Kisumi answers, looking up at Asahi through his lashes. Asahi can feel Hiyori's judgemental gaze boring through the back of his head, but he ignores it cheerfully.

"Let me do it for you."

Kisumi hands him a white tie with bright orange stripes, and Asahi's heart clenches.

As he slides the tie around Kisumi's neck, he vaguely notes the rest of the room emptying as everyone tries to be considerate and hide in the bedroom. The loops of a half-Windsor come easily to his hands. Kisumi watches him, barely breathing.

"Aren't you nervous?" Kisumi asks.

"I am," Asahi says, pulling the knot up snug against Kisumi's collar. He moves to brush off the shoulders of Kisumi's suit, but Kisumi catches his hands and just stands there with them pressed against his chest.

"I don't think my heart's beat this fast in my life." 

"Mine too," Asahi admits. He puts one of Kisumi's hands to his own chest to show him.

A small exhale, that seems to take all the anxiety out of Kisumi and leave him just quietly happy. "I'm glad you finally learned how to tie a tie." He slips his fingers in between Asahi's. "You can tie all mine for me now."

"I'll tie them for you every morning," says Asahi, pulling Kisumi into a hug. 

"Are you trying to propose again?" Asahi can feel Kisumi's smile against his shoulder. 

"Maybe."

Kisumi moves a little, presses his lips to the side of Asahi's jaw. "Then maybe you already know the answer."

"I do," says Asahi, as easy as a sunrise, and he says it the same way again later, and he doesn't think his own answer could ever change.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on Twitter under the same username if you would like to commission me :)


End file.
